


I Will Go Silently into that Good Night

by Callisto_HK



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Tony DiNozzo, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callisto_HK/pseuds/Callisto_HK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Definitely didn't picture my demise like this. I always figured I'd go out like Cagney in 'White Heat', fiery explosion. Or Redford and Newman in 'Butch Cassidy', hail of bullets."... Gibbs said; "How about Charlie Chaplin in 'Gold Rush?" ... "How'd he die?" Tony wondered... "Silently." Gibbs replied./ NOT a tag to 'Chimera'; just using the lines. Rated T for Language. Please check the notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OK. So, the following italic lines are abstracted from S05, Ep06, 'Chimera'; but the story doesn't have anything to do with that episode and its story-line. It's just that this particular dialogue kinda hit me and I couldn't help it; I had to write something about it and that's how this really short story was formed.
> 
> Also, I haven't really intended to post this story; in fact, I've written it a really long time ago; so long that I've forgotten about it altogether. I found the file some days ago when I was looking for something else on my laptop and when I read it I realized that I didn't even like it that much because of how descriptive it is or how rushed it sounded at some points and that's probably why it's been pushed into the darkest holes of my computer! I wanted to fix it, because the idea seemed like a good one; but if I wanted to do that to make it more acceptable, I had to change a lot of things and I just couldn't do that now; since, you know, the desire of using these lines has kinda passed. So, at the end, I just decided to post it the way it is and let it see the light of day and hear what you all thought about it.
> 
> It's a short fic; even shorter than my usual stories; hope you find it interesting enough to keep reading.
> 
> The title is inspired by Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night".

_DiNozzo: Definitely didn't picture my demise like this. I always figured I'd go out like Cagney in "White Heat", fiery explosion. Or Redford and Newman in "Butch Cassidy", hail of bullets._

_Gibbs: How about Charlie Chaplin in "Gold Rush"?_

_DiNozzo: How'd he die?_

_Gibbs: Silently._

* * *

Letting his backpack fall from his shoulder by the door, Tony walked to his couch and heavily dropped to the leather furniture, leaning his head against the soft surface.

Sighing with relief, he finally let his cheerful and carefree masks drop as the pain and hurt washed over him.

The whole day he'd tried to hide his true feelings behind his wide and too bright smiles and now his facial muscles hurt from trying too hard to keep the smile in place. Gibbs' comment had hurt that morning and he couldn't help but taking it to heart.

They'd been called to an abandoned building for a case, but since McGee and Ziva had gone out for lunch, Gibbs just took him and he called the two junior agents to give them directions, so they join them later on the scene.

The strange thing was that there had been just one single police officer at the scene to greet them and he told them that since the body was wearing a marine uniform they hadn't touched anything and that he'd only waited for them to come and take over and now that they had, he needed to leave.

Gibbs and Tony had entered the place and started to check the area before Ducky and Palmer would arrive for the body; but just as they were starting to look deeper into things, with Gibbs walking around and Tony carefully assessing the body, Gibbs' phone started to ring and Tony watched as the older man answered the phone; seconds later, a deep frown sat on his forehead and a grim look covered his face.

"What's it?" Tony had asked and Gibbs had informed him that apparently the building was contaminated with possible biological contagions and they couldn't leave it and nobody could join them till CDC arrived.

It'd taken the whole afternoon before they were checked out and released with the assurance that it'd been false alarm. But those hours had been hell for Tony since the dread of going through another deadly disease had filled him and automatically he'd started to talk and talk until Gibbs had snapped at him; which was where his current hurt feelings were rooted in.

He's said that he'd never pictured his demise like that. That he'd always figured he'd go out like Cagney in "White Heat", fiery explosion. Or Redford and Newman in "Butch Cassidy", hail of bullets.

And in a very Gibbs-like manner, Gibbs had calmly said, " _How about Charlie Chaplin in "Gold Rush?_ "

Surprisingly, Tony didn't know how that one had happened, or rather he just couldn't remember anything special about it and so he'd asked Gibbs about it; Gibbs' answer had been like a bucket of cold water over his head. The older man had icily replied, " _Silently_."

It'd rendered Tony speechless and for the rest of the morning he kept quiet and just worked on collecting evidence while they waited for the CDC to give them an answer. It really took him that long to collect himself, as well and by the time they were free, Tony'd finally managed to look carefree again; smiling and joking with his teammates, ignoring the hurt and hollowness that had set inside of him at Gibbs' cold words.

But now that he was home, he couldn't free his thoughts from those words. He knew he probably had been getting on Gibbs' nerves, but was it necessary to shut him up like that? Was it really impossible for the older agent to understand why he was that afraid of that kind of death?

He wasn't scared of dying in general; he knew that every day he left his home, he might never come back; he faced death on a daily basis and he didn't mind it, because he loved his job and knew what he did made a difference. That didn't mean he wouldn't mind going through another painful isolation and facing slow death, though; and what were the chances of getting infected the second time and surviving? And what was even scarier was that with his already weak immune system and lungs, he knew another such disease, if not fatal, would end his career and he wasn't ready for that.

So, why couldn't Gibbs understand him? Why couldn't he get why he was so scared about another infection? He hadn't been looking for empty reassurances, or hugs or some kind words; he just wasn't the type to care about those things; he'd just needed to talk to keep his mind away from dark thoughts and Gibbs hadn't let him to have even that.

He hadn't even barked a normal order like ' _Shut up, DiNozzo; you're not gonna die_.' That would've been acceptable; welcome, even; but no, the man had to go so far as to say he didn't care what happened as long as Tony didn't talk about it.

Sighing, Tony decided it was futile to dwell on those thoughts; so pushing his tired body up from the couch, he loosened his tie with one hand and unbuttoned his shirt with the other as he walked to his bedroom to get ready for bed.

..

..

A week passed and little by little he'd started to feel down, but by then, he'd completely forgotten about the case that'd unsettled him so much; yet, Gibbs' words were still ringing in his ear, loud and clear. That was why he didn't mention it to anyone, not even to Ducky, how tired he was or how he couldn't sleep or even properly lie down at night because of shortness of breath; and he didn't mention it when it felt worse and the pain in his chest would take his breath away when he had to run around.

What was the point of mentioning it? Besides, it was just probably a stupid cold.

But when he started to feel dizzy due to lack of oxygen and when he heard the wheezing when he breathed, he knew he had to see his doctor. Chest cold was the last thing he needed with those scarred lungs.

And he would've seen his doctor if case after case wouldn't come their way and if Gibbs hadn't become a slave driver again.

After one of those nights, when he got home and during his shower, he noticed how swollen his legs and ankles had become and he just knew something was seriously wrong. He wanted to link it to his fatigue and the fact that he'd spent hours on his feet that day; but with the pain in his chest and the way his heart beat against his rib cage he couldn't ignore the situation anymore.

Knowing that he couldn't do anything about it that late into the night, especially when he barely could drag his tired body around his apartment, he silently vowed that the next morning, the first thing he'd do would be to set a time to meet with his doctor as soon as possible and if Gibbs had a problem with that... Well, the hell with Gibbs!

If he'd been able to think clearly, he'd have known that he'd made that decision a bit too late, because right that night, when he was going to stand up from the couch to go to his bed, the room started to spin around his head and then everything went black and he just dropped back down on the couch.

Hours later, when he opened his eyes to the ringing of his phone, he couldn't understand why he'd slept on his couch and had no idea that he'd passed out there the night before.

That day, when he arrived to the office and started to work on the new case, his chest was so tight that he couldn't even cough and his body was so sore and tired that every step he took was like he had a ton of bricks on his shoulders that was weighing him down. That was why he decided to forego calling his doctor and setting an appointment for a later time and instead, during his lunch break, he went straight to the hospital to see any available doctor; anyone who could tell him what the hell was wrong with him.

What he hadn't expected was to be forced to go through a dozen of tests and be poked by different doctors. He really had thought it was merely a chest cold; or well, he really had _wished_ it'd be.

Once the agonizing examination was finally over, he was so preoccupied that he didn't notice he'd been late to get back to work. His test results weren't back yet, so he wasn't sure what was wrong, but one of the doctors had told him that something seemed to be wrong with his lungs and heart and if he was honest with himself, that'd scared him.

It'd distracted him so much that when he got back to work, he was completely lost in his thoughts and didn't even realize that Gibbs hadn't said a word about him being late; but as he was sitting at his desk, he felt the heaviness of Gibbs' stare on himself; looking up, he found the boss eyeing him suspiciously; so, summoning all his energy and strength, he just plastered a smile on his face and didn't say a word about his health and his probably sick heart.

He wasn't about to let them see his fears when they couldn't even understand the reason and would later mock him for it. Or well, shut him up.

He knew Gibbs, as a boss, cared about his agents' well-being and he hadn't meant it like he was alright if Tony died as long as he did it quietly; but he also knew that Gibbs couldn't understand his fear and would just order him to shut up and deal with it quietly the moment he started to voice it.

The older man had never been open about anything but anger, but recently, he was even more reserved towards Tony, like he barely tolerated him and Tony thought that he didn't need a reminder of how much his presence must be annoying everyone to the point where they deemed that it was OK to joke about his death.

So yeah, if he was going to go down, he'd do it with grace and silently. Just like Gibbs had suggested. He wouldn't let his fears see the light of day again and he wouldn't give his boss and his teammate the opportunity to kick him when he was already down.

It was time he faced the fact that no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise, he was actually alone and nobody really cared whether he was there or not.

As melodramatic as it sounded, it was the truth.

**.**

**.**

**TBC**

**.**


	2. Chapter 2

Gibbs eyed his agent and tried to figure out what was bothering him. During the last few days, Tony'd been different; his smiles were forced and more often than not, he'd shrink back from conversations if he could and he sure as hell hadn't initiated any conversation himself; the change in his behavior wasn't so obvious that'd alert the others, but to Gibbs who'd worked with the younger man for so many years and could read him so well, the changes were clear as day.

Gibbs could see that the younger man looked a bit pale and that sometimes it seemed like he was having a hard time catching his breath.

After some days from the case in that contaminated house, Gibbs was regretting his choice of words to his agent; yes, he'd uttered them knowingly and had gotten the desired effect in result, but that'd been then and this was now; then, he'd been frustrated with everything and especially DiNozzo's nonstop chattering and had just snapped. Now, it was too late to try to take them back and honestly, back then when Tony started to smile and laugh once they were out of that place, he'd pushed his concern aside and had forgotten about it completely; at least, until the younger man started to look tired and sick.

Nevertheless, he couldn't do anything about it, now; he couldn't question the SFA's behavior, because Tony's work was still exemplary and to tell the truth, the fact that he'd quieted down a bit, didn't feel too bad.

So when the younger agent came back from his lunch break late, looking all thoughtful and forlorn, despite his gut feelings, Gibbs didn't give it much thought and let it slide. And he probably would've forgotten about it, had Tony not suddenly collapsed behind his desk, hitting the ground, two hours later when he was about to go downstairs and double check something with Abby.

He was on his feet and by Tony's side in less than a second, barking at the wide-eyed, frozen-in-place junior agent of his team to call Ducky.

Ducky was able to rouse Tony and as he examined him, he noticed the pallor and clamminess of his skin and the palpitations; he also noticed the abnormality in the way Tony was breathing and he voiced all his concern.

But at the end, Tony hadn't been able to come up with any answers and that was merely because the pain in his chest was stopping him from paying attention to anything else.

Gibbs had glared and growled at him, but soon he realized that his SFA was actually in severe pain and wasn't avoiding their questions.

With the help of Ducky and McGee, he took Tony to the car and then to hospital and once there, his SFA was immediately taken away.

Now, two hours later, Gibbs was angrily pacing up and down the waiting room with Ducky trying to placate him.

"Agent Gibbs, right?" A well-dressed old man called and then introduced himself, "Dr. Sean Cale. I'm the cardiologist taking care of Agent DiNozzo."

"Cardiologist?" Gibbs frowned with confusion. He'd thought whatever Tony's problem was had something to do with his scarred lungs.

"Yes; I've been informed that Agent DiNozzo visited the hospital earlier today and has gone through some tests; according to the reports I got, he's been feeling down for a few days now and the symptoms that he informed us of, all speak of a heart condition. Still we ran some more tests to make sure of the situation and eliminate every other possibilities and I'm afraid my colleague's been right about the possible problem."

"Which is?" Gibbs demanded an answer impatiently.

"Myocarditis."

Ducky's eyes widened. "Myocarditis? But Anthony is a healthy man and with the job he has-"

"Viral infection, Doctor Mallard." Cale had already seen Ducky and knew he could understand.

"Viral?" Gibbs frowned. "How has that happened?" He wasn't sure what the problem was exactly, but if it was viral, it meant that it could've been prevented.

"We're working on it," Cale answered. "But considering the fact that symptoms of this sort of heart problem appear 7-14 days after the actual infection, Agent DiNozzo must've contacted whatever has infected him, at least 10-11 days ago since Agent DiNozzo says he's noticed the first symptoms about 3-4 days ago."

"Are you sure about his diagnosis, Doctor Cale?" Ducky asked remorsefully.

"I'm afraid so."

"Ten days ago?" Gibbs looked deep in thought. "The damn contaminated house, Duck." he exhaled deeply and looked at the older man, waiting for him to catch up.

"Oh my."

Cale looked between the NCIS employees and when they didn't come up with an explanation, he had to ask. "May someone please explain it to me, too?"

"Of course; my apologies." Ducky shook his head. "About ten days ago, Agents DiNozzo and Gibbs went to investigate a murder case in an abandoned building, but then we were informed that the place was probably contaminated with biological contagions. CDC was involved, of course, but soon they announced that our Agents were cleaned."

"Let me guess, they just checked for radiation or biological contagions." Cale shook his head. "What was the COD of the body you've found?"

"Single GSW to the head." Ducky provided.

Cale nodded, "It's still highly probable that Agent DiNozzo was infected there. We can send some people there to check the place for samples of the virus."

"I was there with him, why am I not showing the same symptoms?" Gibbs inquired.

"Jethro, Anthony's weakened immune system and his scarred lungs make him susceptible to these sorts of problems. I believe he, too, would've walked away with no problem at all if his lungs were as healthy as they were before his encounter with the Y Pestis."

"Damn." Gibbs took a few steps away and ran his right hand's fingers through his hair. "How's he?"

"We're trying to stabilize him."

"Is he going to be alright?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that right now. With his weak lungs, his situation has worsened more quickly than a normal case and his heart is under a lot of pressure. Once he remains stable for an hour, we'll start the main treatment and from there we just have to hope the damage is reversible."

"What's the worst case scenario?"

"The worst case scenario is a completely damaged heart; the patient then would need a heart transplant." Doctor Cale answered honestly, "But, that's very rare." he immediately added as he saw the pain on the other men's eyes. "Usually, the problem is treatable and the patient can get back to his normal life after a while. But unfortunately, Agent DiNozzo's condition is a bit special, so I can't promise you this, either."

"Then what?"

"Some patients will end up with partially damaged heart, but they can go on with their normal lives as long as they're more careful and follow a strict diet and take their medicines regularly. Some may also need a small surgery to place a pacemaker."

"He can't go back to the field with that." Gibbs looked truly troubled.

"Then let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Would it have made any difference if he'd visited a doctor sooner?" The Lead Agent needed to know.

"It might have." Cale nodded. "But this is usually the case when the patient lives alone and doesn't have anyone who'd notice the symptoms. Usually when there's someone else around, they insist on a hospital visit earlier and the problem is caught much sooner. The fact that Agent DiNozzo has lost consciousness is not a good sign."

Gibbs wanted to collapse into a chair. The doctor's words were like a punch to his stomach. ' _If Tony had someone... If someone was there to notice.'_ To him they were equal to ' _If anybody cared'!_ Because he kept telling himself that Tony did have someone! Him!

Damn, he shouldn't have ignored those signs. He shouldn't have ignored his gut feeling. He was partly responsible for Tony's situation.

"It might not have been soon enough, but at least Agent DiNozzo was wise enough not to ignore his symptoms."

_'Yeah, but his workload didn't let him get a professional opinion sooner.'_ Gibbs thought as his mind went back to the events and cases of the last few days and how they all had spent every waking moment working on one case or another. Shaking his head to be able to focus on the present, he noticed that he was once again alone with Ducky.

"Doctor Cale was paged to another patient's side." Ducky said when he saw the question in Gibbs' eyes.

"I cannot understand, Jethro." The ME studied his friend. "We both know Anthony always ignores his limits and pushes himself too hard; but he must've been in pain for a while now; how come he didn't say a word. The pain he must've been in had to be pretty severe; it couldn't have been easy to hide. He could've mentioned the need to go to the hospital, so you could give him some time off."

"It's my fault." Gibbs wasn't sure where the words had come from, but he knew they were true.

"Jethro-"

"No, Duck. It's my fault he didn't say a word." Gibbs suddenly looked so tired. "The day we thought we were infected, Tony was scared. He wouldn't shut up about not wanting to die like that and..."

"Anthony has a good reason to be afraid of that kind of death. Dying in a hail of bullets or an explosion is something he's ready for. But a painful, slow death?" Ducky shook his head sadly. "And if there is one person who'd really know about it, it's Anthony. He's the only one who'd been through it once. I'm afraid none of us can understand where he's coming from. The mere thought of having to go through it again must've been really frightening for the young lad."

Gibbs snorted resentfully. "And you wanna know how I responded to that?" he asked with a resentful tone, "I basically told him that it didn't matter as long as he died quietly."

Ducky's eyes widened. "Jethro-"

"I know." he sighed brokenly. "I was just frustrated with the situation and I'd forgotten his experience with the plague."

"I'm sure he unders-"

"Ducky, he knew he was sick and he didn't say a word." Gibbs jumped in, not letting the old ME finish his word to placate him. "And I did notice he was looking tired and pale and did nothing about it. I knew my words had hurt him and didn't even try to fix that either."

Ducky sighed and walked to a chair and sat down. He knew there was no point in arguing with the old agent, and frankly, he didn't think there was anything to argue about. Gibbs' temper was the subject of legend and more than once, it'd caused problems. Now, Anthony was mostly immune to it, but they both knew the younger man tended to hide his hurt feelings and that he was perfect at it; that didn't give them the right to hurt him when they knew what could cause him that sort of pain.

"He did it." Gibbs sank beside him to a chair. "He listened to me when I told him he should die silently."

"He's not dying, Jethro." Ducky reproached.

"Maybe not; but if he ends up losing his job because of it, then I can promise you that we won't see him ever again. You know DiNozzo. He'll just disappear."

"Then we shouldn't let that happen." Ducky sounded determined. "We should show him that his home is here with us and that it does not matter whether he's a Field Agent or not. He might end up with a desk job, but we should show him we're his family and that we care."

"Family notices when one of their own is sick, Duck." Gibbs said coldly. "And what would he do behind a desk? He can't stand it; if he's gonna get stuck with a desk job, believe me, he'll make sure to do it somewhere far away from here."

"Not if we can convince him this is his home now; that we care no matter what."

"Did you miss the part when I said I told him I didn't care if he died as long as -"

"I heard you." It was Ducky's turn to stop his friend. Those words were clearly killing Gibbs; he'd already mentioned them over and over again and didn't seem to be able to think about anything else. "Anthony doesn't need your guilt. What he needs is our support."

Gibbs looked away; this was precisely why he was always hard on people and didn't let anyone get close and why he didn't show any feelings but anger; he just was terrible with everything else; not that showing anger wasn't causing trouble; they wouldn't be there if that was the case.

"You should explain yourself, though." Ducky continued. "Now, I know it is not your strongest suit, but-"

"I know, Duck." Gibbs said. "The problem is that with DiNozzo-" he sighed. "You know how he is, Duck. He quickly believes negative remarks, but try to tell him you actually care. He looks at you with so much doubts in his eyes that-" he shook his head.

"I can hardly blame him." Ducky said ruefully. "His father has managed to ruin his self-esteem and... And I'm afraid every now and then, we all get a bit carried away in making jokes at Anthony's expense."

"He gives as good as he gets." Gibbs pointed out.

"He always tries not to be hurtful."

_'True. And we usually are.'_ Gibbs thought with a sigh.

"We should talk to him."

"He has to pull through." Gibbs stood up abruptly.

"Jethro, strong will is a good thing and I'm sure Anthony would like it better; but you have to also show him that whatever happens we will still have his back."

"He knows that."

"Does he?" Ducky frowned. "Weren't _you_ the one who told him you didn't care if-"

"Got your point." Gibbs said before Ducky could finish that phrase. "That's gonna be one hell of a talk."

"No, I'm afraid the hard part is convincing him. The talk will most probably be an easy one; with you coming up with some broken sentences, trying to explain yourself with merely grunts and unfinished phrases and with Anthony pretending like he's alright and pushing his feelings under a lid and hiding everything even deeper."

"Then what do you suggest?" Gibbs asked with frustration.

"Time, Jethro, time. That's the only thing we can hope to have and we just can hope we can fix some of the damages done to that young boy during his years of life."

_'Yeah; try to make him believe that it would matter if he died; quietly or not. Try to tell him that he could trust his boss with his hidden feelings and that he could voice his fears and pain however he wanted to voice them.'_ After his words and actions, convincing the younger man that those things were true would be as hard as bringing his mother back to life.

**.**

**.**

**TBC**

**.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

"Gibbs?" Tony looked genuinely surprised which made the older man feel even worse; did he really think Gibbs wouldn't give a shit? "What are you doing here?"

'Yeah, apparently he did.' Gibbs thought angrily. But with supreme effort, he suppressed his anger at himself, knowing that the younger man would take it the wrong way; so instead of growling, he just raised one eyebrow as he approached the SFA's bed.

"Your doctor talked to you?"

Tony gave him a sad smile. "O yeah."

Well, there was no point talking about that situation, then. "You should've mentioned something sooner." Gibbs chose the next thing that had to be addressed, knowing that he was plunging head first into a conversation he wasn't sure he'd ever be ready for. But expecting a sarcastic remark or an argument, or heck even just the finger-because he kinda felt that statement deserved it-, he was surprised at the answer Tony gave.

Hearing those words, the younger man felt a stab of pain in his chest and he was fairly sure it had nothing to do with his inflamed heart; he was about to say something about it being pointless when nobody wanted to hear things like that, but at the last moment, he just shrugged and said, "We had work to do."

Gibbs was bewildered. He could read his agent, no matter what was going on between them and he knew his words had hit a sore spot, but he didn't expect to hear something like that. "And now because of your stubbornness, you might never be able to get back your job." He knew he was being unnecessarily cruel and that it'd hurt his agent, but he wanted for his agent to come out with his anger at him; maybe then they could clear the air.

The look on Tony's face made him regret his words, though. But the look of hurt was wiped from Tony's face in the blink of an eye and replaced by an icy look of indifference.

"That'd be my problem to deal with." He said monotonously.

He was already cutting them out of his life. Gibbs felt his own heart clenched in his chest. No, he had to take a different approach this time; apparently the usual one was just deepening the gulf between them.

"You're mine, DiNozzo."

"I'm not a dog, Gibbs." Tony replied without missing a beat.

Damn, the younger agent wasn't going to make it easy for him. Ducky was wrong, even the conversation wasn't going to be easy!

"Listen, Tony." He finally sat down in the plastic chair and clasped his hands together. "When you were on that ship, I didn't trust anyone to be my SFA or to take care of things in my absence but you. I've never settled for anything but the best and that's why I wanted you back. Nothing's changed. You hear me?"

Tony didn't even blink, which was unsettling.

"You hear me, DiNozzo?" Gibbs repeated his question. "I want you back. You gotta fight this and pull through."

"I sure don't want to end up behind a desk for the rest of my life." Tony's tone of voice suggested he hadn't exactly believed, if heard, Gibbs' earlier words.

Had the damage been that bad? Gibbs had to wonder. Had he managed to ruin what they had spent years to build, for good? Had really those simple words, spoken out of frustration, finished the job that years of getting kicked hadn't done to the younger man?

Those thoughts scared Gibbs and he wasn't one to get scared easily.

"Why didn't you say a thing?" he wanted to hear it, so he could come up with some excuses and maybe convince the man in front of him that he'd gotten it wrong. "And don't say work again. Work's not more important than your health. Why didn't you say a word?"

Tony tilted his head and studied Gibbs before a smirk sat at corner of his mouth. "You do know that I can read you as well as you can read me, right?"

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at?"

"What am I getting at?" Tony laughed tiredly and breathlessly. "You repeat that question twice and you think I don't know what it is exactly that you want to hear from me? Only, you Gibbs." he shook his head.

Gibbs sighed in resignation. "So it's true." He said. "You kept it to yourself, put your life at risk, just because I've said something stupid days ago?"

"Something stupid, huh?"

"Yes, DiNozzo. Something stupid. You claim you know me, yet you didn't know that I do care about your health?"

"I never said you didn't care. Although, you have a funny way of showing it; gotta tell you. Or well, funny timing."

"Then what?" Gibbs said exasperatedly. "Why didn't you say anything if you knew I didn't mean it?"

"Oh, but I didn't know you didn't mean it." Tony was so calm and detached that Gibbs felt like he was talking to a stranger that he knew nothing about. "Actually, I'm pretty sure you did mean it."

The Lead Agent was confused, Tony wasn't making any sense. But before he could point that out, the younger agent started talking again.

"I know you didn't mean that you didn't care if I died." Tony clarified at the confusion in Gibbs' eyes. "But I also know you meant it like you couldn't stand my whining anymore. Which I can't blame you for; but it would've been nice to know you, of all people, could understand why I was afraid or why and how I tend to hide my fears behind jokes and words."

"I do know that."

"That why you always take it so well?" Tony laughed humorlessly. "Because seriously, this was hardly the first time you've put a stop to my ranting with such a blow when I've been trying to keep my mind away from the shit I've landed in by talking." Sighing, Tony tried to hide his grimace when his ailing heart pounded painfully against his rib cage. He hadn't seen his own reflection recently, but he was pretty sure hiding the pain or the discomfort wouldn't do him much good this time; his color must be telling. Nevertheless, he continued with his argument. "It might come as a surprise to you, but I know dealing with my nonstop talking could be extremely hard at times; my nonstop talking and my jokes and everything. But you think dealing with your temper is easy? You think it's easy for me to keep smiling when you and your temper and your unreasonable shouts get on my nerves? You think it's easy to deal with McGee's holier-than-thou attitude and say nothing? Or with Ziva's jabs and nastiness?" Tony shook his head. "Let me tell you, it's NOT. But do you ever see me snap?"

The younger man had a point and Gibbs knew he couldn't say anything in return. Tony was, by far, the most patient man he'd even known.

Tony's hand went to his chest and unconsciously rubbed his chest and Gibbs suddenly noticed that the machine attached to him was making irregular sounds. But apparently it was nothing to worry the staff, because no one showed up to throw him out and calm Tony down.

"I didn't say anything;" Tony continued, "Because there was no point in it when nobody can understand why it's a big deal to me to end up where I've once been when I almost didn't leave on my own feet the first time around. Unlike what you think, I actually can take it and keep quiet about it; it's just..." he smiled sadly, "I just thought maybe I could share my fears with someone for a change. Someone who'd been there the first time and has an idea what it's been like. Well, obviously I was wrong again."

If Gibbs was one to flinch, he would've flinched then. He just realized how bad he'd failed his best agent. He couldn't help thinking 'way to screw up, Gunny! Way to royally screw up.' over and over again.

"In any case, what's done is done." Tony's mask was firmly back in place. "There's no point in crying over spilled milk."

"Tony-" Gibbs couldn't let his friend think this was it for him. "You're gonna be alright. Most patients with Myo-" he frowned when he couldn't remember the exact title of Tony's problem.

"Myocarditis." Tony rolled his eyes.

Gibbs shook his head. "Whatever. Most people pull through with little to no problem. You've beaten worse odds."

'Everyone runs out of luck one day' Tony wanted to point out, but for some reason he didn't; his eyes, though, had a distant look in them.

"I depend on you, DiNozzo." Gibbs leaned forward and caught Tony's gaze. "What you said is true; you're right not to believe me now, but you also know that frustration comes to me as naturally as words come to you; you hide behind words and I behind my growls." Putting a hand on Tony's head, he silenced the other man's protest, "Not an excuse, I know; I'm just saying I hope you can give me another chance. I've got your back and I want you to tell me whatever it is that you have in your head." he stood up and moved his hand to Tony's neck. "You're not on your own; so you don't have to deal with it alone." he squeezed the younger man's neck. "I'll prove it to you."

Tony held his gaze and didn't say a thing. He didn't have anything to say; not because he was shocked at hearing some nice words out of Gibbs' mouth. No, honestly, it was because he wasn't sure he could suddenly shake all the weariness and pour out his heart again. The last ten days hadn't been easy and he'd promised himself not to let anyone see his fears again. He wasn't ready to break his promise to himself so soon again.

"Everyone will be there. Just trust us."

Involuntary, Tony snorted, causing Gibbs's eyes to darken.

It couldn't be too late, already, could it? Gibbs inwardly shuddered at that thought. No. He couldn't accept defeat.

"Look, Gibbs-" Tony opened his mouth, but Gibbs cut him off.

"Give me a chance." The Lead Agent said, his tone as close as it could get to pleading. "You're way too patient with us and we rarely return the favor, but you gotta know that we care." 'That I care.' He added silently.

Tony wanted to say something to Gibbs, but he just wasn't up to it. Maybe he was tired and the pain in his chest was making it harder for him; but at that moment, he couldn't promise anything. They could see about it in a few days; well, more like a few weeks, if he wanted to get rid of the bone-tiredness, first. But his hesitation was clear in his eyes, because Gibbs had read it and just nodded.

"Alright." The Ex-Marine sighed. "But, I'll prove it to you." he sounded distraught, but determined.

Tony didn't know anything for sure at that moment, but he knew he loved his job and that he'd do his best to get back to it and he did trust Gibbs with his life; it didn't matter if he couldn't speak about his fears; did it? No, not really.

Gibbs, on the other hand, was dead serious when he said he'd prove it to the younger man. He hated to fail and he'd failed his most loyal agent big time; so, it was time to do some damage control and he'd see to it; no matter how long it took. He'd chase that look away from Tony's eyes and would make sure that one day, Tony'd once again open up to him and when that day came, he'd never ever say 'shut up' to him again; at least not when it mattered and would be taken seriously.

But at the end, only time could tell. Whether Gibbs won and made the younger man trust him again or Tony won and didn't let anyone in, again, was something that nobody could tell for months to come.

And during those days and weeks, Tony had to struggle with yet another nasty ailment and Gibbs could only hope that Tony believed their genuine concern and accepted their help, which was a battle of its own.

Deep cuts don't heal overnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you it was short!
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
> Thanks for your support and sorry for the long wait.
> 
> .
> 
> Again, I don't own the show and its characters and all mistakes are mine.


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